


Georgia Asphalt

by helsinkibaby



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Age Difference, Cliche, Community: comment_fic, F/M, Heatwave, Het, Rare Pair, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 11:49:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7975768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Central City is in the middle of a heatwave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Georgia Asphalt

**Author's Note:**

> Theme : cliche  
> Prompt: The Flash, Caitlin Snow/Joe West, Hotter than Georgia asphalt.   
> http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/749796.html?thread=98973412#t98973412

Caitlin groaned with relief as she opened the refrigerator, letting the cold air rush out and surround her. It danced across her skin, along her bare arms and under the spaghetti straps of the flimsy sundress which she'd deemed the least inappropriate dress to wear in the bowels of STAR Labs where the cranky air conditioning system rendered it even hotter than it was outside. Which, with Central City in the middle of an unseasonable heatwave, was really saying something. What had been fun on day one looked a whole lot different on day seven and Caitlin had even begun thinking that some of Killer Frost's powers sounded pretty good - at least they would keep her cool. 

 

Right now, even the cold air of the refrigerator wasn't lasting for long enough and with a muffled curse she grabbed a bottle of beer - which she didn't usually drink, but desperate times and all that - and held it to the side of her neck as she slammed the refrigerator door shut. The shelves inside rattled with the force of it, almost drowning out the sound of a key sliding into the lock as the front door opened. 

 

"Just me." 

 

Joe sounded as tired and fed up as she felt, which was to be expected. Bad and all as the situation in STAR Labs was, Caitlin knew the situation on the streets of Central City was worse still. Tempers were the only thing higher than the temperature and the crime level was way up, meaning some of the senior officers - most of the senior officers - were logging in hours at crime scenes far below their pay grade. 

 

"In here," she called out, waiting for him to come into the kitchen before she opened the refrigerator door again. He would probably welcome the blast of cold air even more than she had. 

 

When he walked in, she knew she'd been right. Usually, Joe took off his jacket when he got in, oftentimes his tie too. Today though, jacket, tie and shirt were all consigned somewhere else, leaving him in a white vest and pants, sweat already glistening on his broad shoulders from just that short walk. A shiver that had nothing to do with cold or heat rippled down Caitlin's spine - working with Cisco and Barry, neither of whom shared her idea of what constituted appropriate workplace attire, she'd thought she'd seen enough of men in tank tops for the week. 

 

Apparently, she'd been wrong. 

 

She resisted - just about - the urge to lick her lips, especially when Joe stopped dead just inside the kitchen doorway, when his eyes travelled over her body, darkening with unmistakable desire at the amount of skin she had on display. "Tell me," he said slowly, walking over to her, never taking his eyes off hers, "you haven't been wearing that all day." 

 

She grinned as she shrugged, then grinned some more as the movement caused one of the straps to slide down her shoulder. His eyes followed it as he came to stand right in front of her, one finger reaching out to push it back up, leaving a trail of goose flesh in its wake. "Cisco and Barry are too busy outdoing each other trying to describe how hot it is," she told him. "Cisco's currently winning, something about how it's hotter than Satan's armpit while Satan is standing on Georgia asphalt..." 

 

The way his hands moved down her shoulders, along her sides, coming to rest on the cradle of her hips, stopped her talking and she reached out blindly, placing the bottle of beer on the counter. Her hands went to his chest, where the shock of one of them, cold from the bottle, made him shiver, suck in a sharp breath. "I don't want to talk about STAR Labs," he told her, his voice low as one hand moved down to the hem of her rather short skirt before slipping underneath and moving upwards. 

 

Suddenly it was the last thing Caitlin wanted to talk about too. 

 

And, as his hand moved higher, reaching a different kind of heat, she decided she didn't want to talk at all.


End file.
